D&D Quest # 7
Character: D’jiel Miaric
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Elfish Druid
Male
6’4”
From the Randorei of Enyhalonet, an elven matriarchate that lives in the island-city KleAncalen.
Blue blood, distantly related to the ruling family of the Randorei, the Ulylanas. Spent his
childhood and early teens in the country with his family, and later in life was educated in
the royal palace
Extremely beautiful and androgynous-looking
Eternally cheerful and optimistic
Tanned, athletic but not muscular. Very agile and nimble.
Can do acrobatic tricks and parkour.
Excellent swimmer and diver
Violet eyes
Gray hair with very soft waves to his waist. Puts it on a ponytail when about to cast a
strong spell
Never sleeps-meditates to rest his body
Vegan
Can influence the behavior/mood of animals and the simple-minded
Turns into a gray wolf sometimes during the night to commune with nature
Naïve, does not have a filter. He has no malice, but tends to say things he shouldn’t
Knows very little about the outside-world, which gets them into all sorts of prickly
situations
The Randorei people have existed for millennia, and have lived separated from the rest of the
known world. They believed themselves descendants of the Amazons of yore, the same ones who
came from Selme Caolera, the Sacred Garden of Life, with no other than the First Woman,
Enyhalonet The Just. One of the enlighten beings of the forest, Enyhalonet forsook her
immortality and became human to liberate females from centuries of abuse and neglect at the
hands of their male counterparts.
No one knew much about them other than they were a prosperous matriarchate that practiced
magick, but otherwise lived simply, and that they had always kept to themselves, thriving in
perfect harmony with nature. They had 3 casts, the nobles, the farmers and the workers, raised
their females to be in charge of every strata of life and their males to make advantageous marriages
to benefit their families, continue the progeny and care for their young. The Randorei never
ventured outside their island-city Kle-Ancalen, and seldom allowed visitors. Those few privileged
ones brought back with them tales of many wonders, but scarce evidence to back them up. The
Randorei were not keen to partake with anything that could offer more than a glimpse into their
fascinating culture, and confiscated most mementos that came or went by contraband. They
carefully measured their interaction with the world outside the island-city to protect that delicate
balance. Their ancestors have passed down many generations horrifying stories of frightening
things like war, famine and slavery, or how women used to be treated like property. Many a young
boy had nightmares after having their elders tell these scary campfire stories!
The explorers told their captive audiences amazing anecdotes of the lush island-city with the green
valley covered by wildflowers and hundreds of different varieties of fruit trees, the impossibly high
mountain with a snowy tip that disappeared into the clouds, the 3 lakes as blue as the sky and of
rivers whose waters chirped amongst rocks of many colors. In addition, Kle-Ancalen had 30 miles
of sandy, pristine beaches that glistened under the sun as if carpeted with small jewels, and its
large and diverse fauna featured birds of every color imaginable and magnificent mammals,
among other species. The explorers said the island-city was fervently guarded and protected by
spells that made her invisible, and that those spells were suspended only twice a year to allow
selected pilgrims to visit some parts of the island-city, usually those areas closest to the shore.
They also talked about the beautiful Randori homes built inside huge trees in the valley, in the
blue crystal caves by the sea, or in the mountainous area, how the homes were sculpted inside
glaziers that somehow kept warm inside. Skilled sailors and graceful riders of all manners of
beasts, the Randorei preferred walking as their usual method of transportation, so their roads
were wide to accommodate many people, and always kept clean as the the countless and colorful
flowers that grew on the sides made them fragrant. The Randorei were vegan, so gardens could
be seen everywhere growing fruits, nuts, legumes and tubercles. According to the stories, the
Randorei people could do magick attuned to nature; their schools had no buildings and their
young were educated out in nature. Particular attention was paid to their females who were
trained to take charge of their farms, trade franchises or noble houses, and carefully instructed in
all sciences, but both male and female were taught how to cast spells equally. Their spells and
incantations could channel the power of the seas, the winds, the earth and even influence the
behavior of animals, but the Randorei never abused their control over nature but simply
channeled it, careful not to upset the natural balance.
The Randorei were always described as a polite but cautious people, hospitable, kind and very
inquisitive. The explorers also never ceased to praise their physical beauty: tanned, tall, with eyes
of different tones of blue or green and flowing locks of auburn, black or blond hair that was worn
straight, waved or curled in a variety of hairdo styles often decorated with flowers, vines and tree
bark dyed with wild berries. Both female and male randori dressed similarly with warm-colored
silk or cotton robes, and pants and shoes made from a variety of soft vines. In special occasions,
they wore finer robes and expensive and luxurious cos-taereal pants and boots dyed with wild
berry juice to various shades of blue, purple and red. The sweet-smelling Presphyra plant
produced a flower once a year that was very sought-after for its medicinal purposes, and because
when boiled, became a pliable, soft and extremely resistant fabric known as cos-taereal, the
randori word for “silky rope”. Cos-taereal required special and complex spells to manufacture and
it was thus very rare and prized by the randori. The visitors compared it to very soft leather and
always marveled at it. One of them had managed to smuggle a small sample that sold for a king’s
ransom. Those males that were spoiled and pampered by their parents or spouses also wore
gorgeous jewelry and discreet beauty marks.
The royal family, the Ulylanas, were a particularly beautiful lot. Most had either bone-white or
jet-black hair to match their big eyes with orbs of cobalt blue, but some family members carried a
gene that would begin to ashen their hair at the age of 3, which made them look like sea-angels.
By the time they were 10, the hair would be completely gray. The Randori Queen Mother Addithas
Lhoris Ulylanas, and her daughter Princess Fylson, considered two of the most beautiful women
in the whole island-city, had both gray hair. The queen’s second cousin Le’jym Alylanas also had
sleek gray hair, and passed on the gene to his son D’jiel, only the latter inherited his mother
Kesefehon’s smooth waves instead of his dad’s straight locks.
D’jiel grew up with his parents, older sister Helepeiros and younger twin brothers Z’ngwyn and
H’byr, in a happy, loving farmhouse in the Inagerios valley, filled with laughter and music. His
parents had a small but very successful legumes farm in the valley; they did not spoil their male
children, but did not inhibit them either. D’jiel and his younger brothers had to do chores just like
their sister, but his parents were reformists and taught their boys useful skills usually reserved for
girls like archery and sword exercises. D’jiel’s parents had eloped 5 years before D’jiel’s birth
without the consent of the late Queen Mother Aien Lhoris Ulylanas, which had caused a sad
falling-out with their royal relatives for many years. As time passed, Queen Mother Addithas
Lhoris ascended to the throne. She dearly missed the beloved cousin who had been her faithful
companion and best friend growing up. Addithas had never cared that Le’jym had jilted his royal
duties (and a fiancée from another ancient family) and gone to marry a valley farmer. Her cousin
had fallen in love and Queen Addithas understood, as she herself had ditched her own courtapproved fiancé to marry a strapping young elf from a lower noble house that had seized her heart
after just one romantic veiled dance. Let bygones be bygones she said, as she welcomed her
dearest cousin and his family back and invited them to live with her in the palace.
D’jiel’s parents were delighted to be reacquainted with their kind relative and new Queen Mother,
but politely declined the offer to become part of the royal court and move into The Aien, the royal
crystal palace overlooking the Xharlion Sea. Kesefehon Miaric loved her husband fiercely and
lived to please him, but she would not be dissuaded. The Miarics had always been farmers and
Kes could not bring herself to abandon her beloved Inagerios, the majestic green valley that had
always been her home, or their cozy farmhouse built inside a giant pine tree where they had raised
their children to be good elves, nor their abundant crops, to move to the embellished palace with
its ostentatious courtiers dressed like peacocks and their loose morals. She and her Le’, as Kes
lovingly called her husband, had fallen in love in Inagerios when he had come to compete as an
archer in the Estival Games, the sports competition for young male elves from all walks of life. At
25, Kesefehon efficiently ran her family’s farm and it was a great honor to be chosen as one of the
vendors supplying food to the athletes competing in the Games.
One look at the 17-year old strapping archer with the hair like Mangtwood smoke clouds, azure
eyes and lips as succulent as ripe vasafruit in spring, and Kes knew she would never so hungrily
covet any other man-or any other thing, for that matter- as much, for as long as she lived. But he
was too young and too rich, she thought, and a royal to boot, which meant he was probably a
spoiled brat used to an easy and luxurious life in court. Kes had nothing to offer him but her heart
and a simple life in her farm, and she could not afford herself the luxury to fantasize about cute
young nobles, so she buried her crush deep in her soul, bent on giving it no more thought. Little
did she know at the time that the blue-blooded beauty with the perfect aim was a level-headed,
unassuming youngster with a good head over his shoulders, and that he would soon also become
as besotted with her as she was with him. They had no clue they would fall madly and irremediably
in love with each other, nor that their plans to fully embrace that love would be tested to the
extreme…but that is another story.
However, Kesefehon and Le’jym could not deny their royal cousin’s request of allowing D’jiel to
finish his education at the court. With heavy hearts, D’jiel’s tearful family saw him leave Inageiros
fresh out of his 14th birthday, his beautiful gray hair loosely arranged in his customary unruly
ponytail, and his violet eyes filled with enthusiasm and glee as he boarded the vessel sent to
retrieve and bring him to the royal court located about 3-day walk from Inagerios.
The Randorei were happy, optimistic people, but D’jiel was a particularly jubilant elf. Tall with
legs that went for miles, graceful and elegant, his wavy gray hair cascaded down his back to his
waist, and adorably flowed around him at his slightest movement like a gray hazy halo. His eyes
changed shades for no apparent reason, from the deep purple of river violets to the softer tone of
rivulet lilacs; his lips were full, and they curved upwards sensually when he smiled uncovering his
dimples. Many a pretender got lost in the thought of tracing their baby finger along the sweet
outline where his glowing skin met his pouty mouth. D’jiel was not only stunning and perennially
joyful, he was also gracious, caring and fair, and a brilliant student that in no time caught up with
his peers in all subjects. His dashing good looks and sunny disposition earned him the favors of
the entire court, including the palace staff that doted on him with zealousness. He was chased
around and besieged by females and males alike, all pining for a mere bright smile shone in their
direction. D’jiel was kind towards all, but close with none, and he managed to never bestow his
heart fully onto any person.
That is, until he met Ilrune Goren.
Ilrune Goren was a 30-year-old kind and soft-spoken country noble widow who had moved to a
valley farm to get away from the pomp of the court following her husband’s tragic death. She had
an unspoiled reputation and was widely respected and appreciated by her peers, her superiors
and her tenants alike. She had been invited to D’jiel Commencing Ceremony at the palace, and
the newly-minted 20-year D’jiel was immediately bewitched by the enchanting widow’s spritelike body with soft curves and ample bosom, emerald-green eyes, beautiful auburn hair, kindness,
wit and her lively and perpetual smile. He had never met anyone so unintentionally alluring and
so mesmerizing. In addition, the lovely Ilrune was incredibly smart, compassionate and down-toearth. The petite, kindhearted widow was just as smitten with D’jiel, and they spent hours in each
other’s company, lost in conversation and with eyes for no one for each other at his party. Usually
one to avoid visits to the court unless demanded by protocol, Ilrune found herself finding any
excuse to return often to the palace hoping to catch a glimpse of sweet D’jiel and maybe chat with
him a bit under the vigilant eyes of his Handler. She would gaze adoringly and secretly at the lanky
elf with the bedroom eyes, who, oddly enough, seemed to be anywhere she went while visiting the
court. In no time at all they managed to ditch the chaperones and declaring their undying love for
each other, lost themselves in sensual embraces and endless kisses. Alas, their love was not meant
to be, and fate dealt them a harsh hand just as they were getting ready to seek the Queen Mother’s
approval for their betrothal.
Unfortunately for him, D’jiel had also caught the eye of his third cousin, the princess Fylson, his
elder by 4 years. Fylson was convinced she and D’jiel were a match like no other, both with their
striking violet irises and gorgeous smoky-mist gray hair: his long and wavy, hers short and
straight. They were sure to produce an intelligent, not to mention attractive and exotic lineage,
Fylson elucidated to her mother when she explained her plans to propose to her lovely and goodspirited third cousin. The Queen Mother adored D’jiel and unequivocally approved the match, so
Fylson though it a fact the perfect couple would marry one day and D’jiel would become her Royal
Consort. Imagine her despair when D’jiel, sweetly but firmly, turned her offer down.
Fylson was besides herself; why did D’jiel decline becoming the companion of the future Queen
Mother of the Randorei, an honor without parallel? Her disappointment and curiosity quickly
turned to seething rage when she discovered that the reason her cousin had rebuked her proposal
was to pursue a relationship with a lowly noble country old widow! It was just unfathomable for
the princess, and the more she dwelled on it, the irater she became. “If D’jiel could not be hers, no
other randori could have him!” fumed the surly princess, feeling affronted and despondent. From
that day forward, an angry Fylson thought of nothing but how to avenge her cousin’s insult, and
without intending it, her mother presented her with the perfect opportunity for revenge.
It was really no surprise when D’jiel was chosen by a panel of elders from the most ancient families
in all Kle-Ancalen to be part of a select group that would accompany the latest visiting
outsideworlders in their journey back to their world. It had been a dear campaign of the
progressive Queen Mother to convince the elders that it was time for the Randorei People to send
emissaries into the outside-world, and when they had finally agreed, a panel was formed to choose
the candidates. Dozens of outstanding applicants were considered, and at the end, only 5 of the
very best Kle-Ancalen had to offer were selected, D’jiel amongst them.
Not a single elf in all Kle-Ancalen was surprised by D’jiel’s selection, except of course D’jiel
himself, He could not understand why not another single blue-blood was even considered or why
he was the only male chosen. There were many other young men with his qualities, some of them
much better than him at many things. Why was he chosen? D’jiel could not figure it out. Ilrune
too was as puzzled as she was heartbroken; they both tried desperately to speak with the Queen
Mother, but each time they requested an audience though the proper channels, they were only
met with evasives. Had Fylson intervene in some way? D’jiel could never get a straight answer
The chosen few would be gone for 10 years and D’jiel already found it difficult having to wait to
see Ilrune only once every few months when she visited the palace, and that if he could manage
to convince Venris, his Handler to let them be unchaperoned for 1 hour, forget about 10 years!
Unfortunately, when the time came for the outofworlders to leave Kle-Ancalen, D’jiel had to
depart one sunny morning leaving behind all that he thought was perfect. His journey would
either bring him back into Ilrune’s loving arms, or show him that the outside-world was really
where he was always meant to be.